Ashita e Tsurete
by ShowMeTheStarsIn221B
Summary: On his first day of high school, Takao befriends the next Beethoven. Deaf!Midorima, au.


_This is written for the lovely tumblr user therestimetowatse, and is based off a tumblr post and Midorima and Takao's beautiful duet song, ashite e tsurete. Please enjoy!_

* * *

There was always someone playing in music room B, every lunch break Takao could remember. He first walked past that room when he was a first year, exploring Shuutoku diligently with the curiosity of a youth wanting to start a new adventure. He was wandering past music room B when he heard the melody and chords of a piano being played, drifting out of the slightly opened door. Now, Takao wasn't an expert in piano music, he preferred the guitar and voice himself, but there was something about how passionately and beautifully these keys were being played that sparked an interest in him.

Now, because Takao was Takao, he let his curiosity win, and he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was small, just big enough for a collection of double basses against the one wall, a small computer pod, a large window facing out to the grounds and in the middle, a beautiful semi-grand piano, being played by an even more beautiful man.

It was the man who caught Takao's attention, of course. He can't have been much older than him, probably a Shuutoku first year, for he wore the same uniform as Takao did, but it fitted differently on his tall and lean body. His green hair fell down over his pale forehead, only kept up by the practical frame of his glasses, so his long lashed green eyes could continue to remain fixed his taped fingers, dancing across the keys expertly.

Takao didn't want to interrupt his concentration, or indeed, the lovely piece he was playing, so he stood back and watched from the doorway. However, he didn't have to wait long, for the student suddenly stopped, and reached up to scribble on the messy, handwritten score in front of him.

"Uh, hey!" Takao called, sensing that this was his moment. "What were you playing?"

There was no answer from the green-haired teen, nor any acknowledgement that Takao had spoken at all. Takao frowned and tried again.

"I'm Takao Kazunari! Who're you?"

Once again, the boy continued to write on his score as if no one was there. Feeling a little annoyed now, Takao strode over to the piano and touched his arm, smiling brightly. "Hey, did you hear- huh?"

The boy had turned around quickly, his expression shocked. But that wasn't what had stopped Takao mid-sentence. Green-kun, as Takao was now calling him in his head, was waving his hands around in weird gestures, way too fast for Takao to comprehend. Confused, he took a step back, shaking his head.

"Nah dude, I don't underst-"

Green-kun threw his head back in irritation and emitted a 'tch' sounding noise. He reached up and grabbed his wad of blank sheet music and scribbled something on the back, before holding it up for Takao to see

_What are you doing here? _

Takao felt confused, and opened his mouth to speak, but Green-kun just thrust the paper and pencil at him. _Write it down._

Feeling ever more lost, Takao scribbled something down on the score and held it up. _I just heard you playing and I wanted to see who it was. Why am I writing on this?_

The other student pointed at his ear, more accurately, his hearing aid. _I'm deaf, moron. _

"Oh…." Takao felt a wave of sympathy for the other boy. Now that he mentioned it, the Principal did say something about a deaf student joining the school in the new entrants' ceremony. However, Takao had zoned out by then so he didn't catch anything else.

_I'm sorry, _Takao wrote, knowing that it was a really stupid thing to say.

_Don't be._

_But wait, hold on! _Takao was struck by a sudden thought, _if you're deaf, how can you play the piano? You're composing, aren't you? How do you know what your composition sounds like?_

Green-kun looked at him in distaste. _You can compose music without hearing what it sounds like, you know. All you need is a good knowledge of music theory, which I have. Besides, my melodies always sound good. Man proposes, God disposes._

Takao didn't quite understand why he had put the proverb in there, but he got the gist of the matter. _That's pretty impressive. You're like the new Beethoven or something!_

The look Green-kun gave him let him know that he didn't appreciate his joke.

_Can you leave me now? I want to continue working._

Takao shrugged and stood up, passing his last note to the boy and waving cheerfully, before leaving and shutting the door behind him. _I'll see you later!_

He came back the very next day.

* * *

Takao continued to come to music room B every day after that. He learnt that the boy's name was Midorima Shintarou, or 'Shin-chan', as Takao like to call him. Sometimes they would 'talk' for a little while, Takao always writing masses of text about himself and bombarding Midorima with questions that he would only give short, reluctant answers to. Sometimes Takao would try to get Midorima to teach him sign language, which was what Midorima had tried to communicate to him with when Takao had first met him. However, Takao was still shaky on that front, for he would often forget, or mix up the signs, or even make them up, confusing but amusing both of them. Midorima would always inform Takao of his lucky item for the day, which Takao had learnt was some weird custom of his. "I always try to keep as lucky as possible", Midorima had explained to him, "because I am determined not to suffer a disadvantage because of my disability."

However, most of the time Midorima sat at the piano, composing. Takao would lean against the baby-grand and listen, letting the music wash over him, letting himself be caught up in the intense creative process. However, for Midorima, that process was little more than knowledge, diligently following certain rules, the key and key changes, the chords and intervals, the motifs and melodies, the accidentals and ornaments. All were mathematically placed to perfection.

Midorima's music flowed out through his own fingers, but he could never hear it. Instead, Takao was his ears, appreciating the pure passion and beauty that Midorima put in, that he could never be able to write down.

"Shin-chan," Takao signed awkwardly with his hands, one day when the weak sunlight was streaming through the window, "do you ever wonder what your music sounds like?"

Midorima stared at him for a moment, deciphering Takao's clumsy hand gestures. Shin-chan was the only thing Takao knew how to sign confidently, after all.

"No, I haven't," Midorima signed back, "I know what it sounds like. I hear it in my head."

"No, you don't!" Takao tried to go further, but he had no idea how to sign the rest. Instead, he grabbed the notebook they had set out for difficult conversations. _You don't know what image it creates, what emotions it manipulates, what meaning it gives. You can't work all that out in your head, Shin-chan._

Midorima didn't reply, he just stubbornly continued to edit his score. Takao laughed softly at him, his best friend was such a stubborn idiot.

"Fine then," he said, his voice slightly hoarse form lack of use in this past hour, "I'll just have to show you, won't I?"

* * *

Takao spent the next few weeks leaning on the piano, writing on his own notepad, never once exchanging a word with Midorima, who continued to work on his piece, which he had almost perfected. Sometimes they would each look up and their eyes would meet, only briefly before they both blushed and looked down hastily at their own work.

Takao became almost as relentless as Midorima, always scribbling and crossing out things he had written, tapping on his leg and sometimes even singing, taking advantage of the fact that Midorima could not hear him. People had always told Takao he had a good singing voice. Like Midorima, he also wrote his own music, normally songs on the guitar which he performed only to himself in the solitude of his bedroom. But Midorima's skill was certainly something else; he could see that, which was why he was determined to show his friend the true meaning behind his music.

Finally, one wet spring day, when the rain hammered the sakura petals to the window and patterns of light and water played on the lid of Midorima's piano, Takao broke their daily routine.

Carefully, he slid the piece of paper he had been working over to Midorima, who read over it in confusion. Takao waited for his reaction with baited breath.

Finally, Midorima looked up.

"There are…" he signed, hands shaking.

"They're lyrics for your composition," Takao finished, smiling. "They're what your song means to me. I hope you like them."

Midorima stared again at the words written on the paper by Takao's scrawling hand, his expression unreadable. After a while, he started signing again, and Takao's heart swelled with joy.

"Can you… Sing them for me?"

Takao nodded, and Midorima started to play. His fingers danced along the keys, just as they did when Takao first met him, the strange boy playing alone in the music room. But when Takao opened his mouth to sing, no sound came out.

He touched Midorima on the shoulder, and he stopped playing. "What's wrong?"

"Sing with me!" Takao singed, "Sing with me, Shin-chan!"

Midorima looked taken aback. "Takao, you know I can't do that! I can't even form words properly, let alone sing!"

"I don't care." Takao's usually cheerful face was dead serious, and he met Midorima's gaze head on, trapping him. "This won't mean a thing if you don't sing with me. Please, Shin-chan…"

Midorima sighed, and pushed his glasses up his nose, a gesture which Takao had come to adore. "Fine, have it your way. I'll do my best."

Takao smiled, and counted him in on his fingers. This time, Midorima played as if the music was alive, a transmitter that conveyed all of his emotions. It was all Takao could do to not get swept away by it and miss his cue.

But miss it he did not, and when he opened his mouth to sing, Midorima did as well.

"_Your shoulders are slumped and your back soaking wet_

_The cool raindrops hide your tears,"_

"_Waa I oo arrohga, I under?" _

Midorima's words were Incomprehensible, but Takao didn't care. This was the first time he had heard Midorima's voice, and he was shocked by how beautiful it was. Beautiful and perfect.

"_Let's face forward and advance a step / There's nothing to fear, right?_

_All of us who hold this conviction_

_Can become ever stronger,"_

Takao was singing his heart out now, his voice complimenting the timbre of Midorima's, and keeping the tune of the melody on key. Midorima continued to play as well as sing, sight-reading the vocal part as he played the piano part by memory.

"_We're entrusting that sentiment to our future selves_

_With the bitterness that remains in each of our hearts_

_We'll rebound and then, once again_

_We'll return, without a doubt,"_

Were those tears in Midorima's eyes? Only then Takao realised how much the song would've hit home. How many struggles had Midorima had to go through? How much suffering? To live with the loss of his hearing and still continue with his passion despite all odds was an incredible mental feat. No wonder Midorima relied so much on his lucky items, his superstitions and his weird practices. That was his way of staying strong.

"_Take all of today's pain and frustration and carry it with you to tomorrow," _Takao sang, his eyes meeting Midorima's and not looking away, "_Reaffirm those feelings of genuinely wanting to win,"_

"_et's face oorward n ahvance a step/ ere's nofing o fear, ight?" _Midorima sang quietly in his own way of speech, shaping the words around his mouth in a way that felt so alien, releasing them into the air where Takao, his ears, could hear them.

"_All of us who hold this conviction_

_Can become ever stronger…" _

They finished together on the last note, perfectly in tune, defying all logic. Midorima ended the accompaniment one octave higher, a lingering melody that seemed to fly off after the sound of their voices.

"Was that… good?" Takao signed.

Midorima didn't answer. Instead, he was leaning over the piano keys, crying silently.

"Shin-chan…"

Midorima looked up and smiled a watery smile, one of the few smiles Takao had ever seen him make. His glasses were smudged and behind them his face was red and blotchy from the tears, but they were tears of joy.

"Thank you, Takao," Midorima signed, making Takao gasp from such an out of character gesture. "Thank you for showing what my music sounds like."

Takao laughed, and quickly wiped one of his own tears away. "I said I would,, didn't I? You should've had more faith in me, Shin-chan."

Midorima looked away and blushed slightly. "I… I always did."

They stayed there for a few minutes, red from tears and blushes, before Takao leant over and tapped Midorima's arm, just as he did when they first met. Quickly, without making any hesitations so he wouldn't change his mind, he signed a phrase that he had practiced to perfection.

"Shin-chan, can I kiss you?"

* * *

The sound of the piano stopped in music room B for a while, much to the confusion of those who walk past it. Instead, the inhabitants were learning that they didn't _always _need music to convey their emotions. Sometimes, the incredible feeling of Midorima's slightly chapped, passionate lips on Takao's own was more than enough for him.


End file.
